


Different

by SunflowerAro



Series: Stitch [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Genderfluid Character, Hurt/Comfort, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Misgendering, Though it's unintentional, Time is supportive, genderfluid Wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28024452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerAro/pseuds/SunflowerAro
Summary: Wild has always been different.
Relationships: Time & Wild (Linked Universe), Wild & Zelda
Series: Stitch [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052705
Comments: 23
Kudos: 247





	Different

**Author's Note:**

> A little disclaimer: I am nonbinary, not genderfluid, so if any genderfluid folks see any issues, please let me know!

Wild was different. Asking Zelda hadn’t brought light to this situation, as the two of them hadn’t spoken much before the calamity, and when she finally got the chance to, Ganon had emerged. They simply hadn’t been close enough at the time to talk about this, though Zelda _had_ mentioned that the earrings weren’t a new thing, though she had never asked about them before the Calamity.

Wild hadn’t retained much, upon waking up in the shrine of resurrection, but the three sets of earrings within the slate—the only objects it had contained—had brought back _something_. They had brought back feelings of being different, and _hating_ it with a passion. Despite having the earrings, Wild wasn’t certain whether or not Link had changed them to suit each day, as the memories had always displayed Link with the blue earrings.

But, Wild wasn’t the same person anymore, and hating that part of themself was something they _refused_ to do, not when they had been given a second chance at life.

Donning the topaz earrings had come naturally when they had woken up, and they were the ones that spent the most time in Wild’s ears. They had left the ruby and the sapphire pairs in the slate for at least a week, and had assumed that they would never need them.

As it turned out, Wild _did_ need the other two pairs, though not nearly as often. They had felt the urge to switch to the sapphire earrings soon after leaving the Great Plateau, a sudden switch forcing them to pause and change, before continuing on. The ruby earrings they wore even less, though the feeling was always just as strong. Donning the ruby earrings didn’t help much, with _those_ feelings, and it wasn’t until they acquired their Vai outfit that they truly felt comfortable in their body on those days. They _loved_ wearing pretty things, when they were wearing the ruby earrings—sometimes when they wore the topaz earrings, too. And, they loved when people would compliment them, any passing _oh, she’s so pretty_ , making their day.

They didn’t tell many people about their preference for neutral pronouns, however, too hesitant to do so for a long time. Wild has an inkling that a part of their past had urged them to remain silent about it, despite how much it hurt to be called _he_ when they didn’t feel as such. It wasn’t until they met Bolson that they accepted themself. The builder had told them all about his own journey towards acceptance, recognising the signs within Wild—though, it was rare someone missed how they flinched upon being misgendered, despite how unintentional it was. That night had been one of their favourites on their journey, and telling their friends about the earrings and what they meant came easily after it.

Saving Zelda had come on a more masculine day, and they hadn’t minded being called _he_ at the time, but a few days later in the castle, they had confided in Zelda. She had been more than eager to accept them, and on their next _she_ day, Zelda had surprised Wild with a breath-taking dress of a soft purple, embroidered along the trim with little yellow stars Zelda had done herself. The piece had wrapped around them in all the right ways, stretching down to their knees and giving them a more feminine figure as they had always wanted on their _she_ days.

They had cried in her arms, that day, and the dress had felt more like home than the Vai outfit when they needed it. When they wore the dress and let their hair down, everyone would call them _she_ , as they wanted.

It was perfect, up until the other heroes arrived at the front door of their house on a _he_ day. Wild had packed almost everything they owned, save the weapons the Champions had held—those never left their wall, as they were too fearful of breaking them like they did everything else. None of the group took any notice when their earrings changed back to topaz, or when they flinched upon almost every _he_ sent their way whenever their earrings weren’t sapphire. Wild couldn’t bring themself to mention it, wary of the other heroes’ opinions of them—their era was significantly farther in the future, so what if the other heroes weren’t as accepting as the people from their own time were?

They had donned their sapphire earrings the first time they had returned to their own era, too scared of their friends calling them _they_ and alerting the other heroes. That only lasted until Zelda caught them and scolded them for being an idiot, but Wild _still_ couldn’t bring themself to tell the group.

Which was why, almost a month into this adventure, the other heroes _still_ misgendered them constantly—Wild couldn’t blame them, not when they themself hadn’t been honest. How could they when the others didn’t _know_?

*

Warriors’ era was _packed_ with people. Wild constantly bumped into people passing by in Warriors’ Castle Town, shooting quick apologies before scurrying after the group, their topaz earrings glinting in the evening sun that peeked in over the stone walls. Time had wanted them all to spend the afternoon stocking up on necessities together as some sort of bonding exercise—though Wild saw half of the group roll their eyes tiredly. They couldn’t argue, though, too excited to see what Warriors’ time had to offer. When they returned home, Zelda would want to know all about it, and they _loved_ how passionate she got about history. And, there was no better place to find information on the past than _being_ there, as Zelda had told them the week prior, when the group had been dumped unceremoniously in their time.

The stores had significantly more to offer than Wild’s own Hyrule, but these people had had more time to perfect their craft, and they hadn’t lost centuries worth of knowledge to Ganon. They had been paired up with Hyrule to gather any necessary potions, their healer having a knack for remembering what they needed, and Wild could store them all within their late.

Hyrule wandered off to gather more healing potions, while Wild inspected the array of other potions across the small store, forming a rainbow across the shelves. Wild themself had made _dozens_ of different kinds of potions, and yet this store seemed to have hundreds more to offer—what else could a person need potions for, anyway?

“Can I help you with anything, sir?”

Wild flinched at the word _sir_ , turning around to offer the storeowner a strained smile. In their own Hyrule, everyone would refer to them as _my friend_ when they wore the topaz earrings. Even the Gorons had adapted to their changes, and had begun referring to them as _little sibling_ , or _sister_ , if they were wearing their ruby earrings.

They hadn’t been referred to as _sir_ in a long time, and it was jarring, leaving a nasty sensation unfolding in their stomach. Their chest tightened painfully, but they pushed aside the sensation for now, lest Hyrule notice. It barely helped.

“I’m okay, thank you,” they forced out, turning away so the man wouldn’t see how their eyes burned. They should be _used_ to this by now, so why was it affecting them so much today? It shouldn’t, but they couldn’t stop the numbness settling in their chest and snatching their voice away.

Today wasn’t a good day for it, then. It had been a while since they had had a particularly bad time with misgendering—the last time being when Zelda had found out—and they had forgotten how _awful_ it was.

“Of course, sir.”

Wild winced, but didn’t turn back around, pretending to inspect a bottle of glittering green potion as they shoved the bitter feelings down. The man moved on to help Hyrule while Wild took deep breaths, raising a hand to their earrings as they did whenever it got particularly bad—it served as a reminder that they were _there_ , and they were themself, not whatever someone else saw them as. Once they returned to the inn, they could sneak off to soothe themself with pictures on their slate.

The pictures that they had taken with Zelda always helped when they were having a bad day.

Hyrule was more perceptive than they had originally thought—though, as the healer, he _had_ to see any sign of pain on a person, especially when he was dealing with a group of stubborn heroes. As soon as he turned back to Wild, his eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully.

“Are you okay?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, eyes scanning Wild’s face for any more signs of pain.

Wild waved him off, as they always did. “I’m fine, just a little tired.”

Hyrule nodded slowly, searching them once more before dismissing his concerns. “We can head back to the inn, now. This is all we need, and Warriors wanted us back early for dinner.”

At the thought, Wild’s stomach growled. They hadn’t eaten since breakfast, Warriors refusing to stop for anything as he led the group towards town. Though, their heart sank at the realisation that they would have to sit through another round of being called _he_ before they would be able to comfort themself with the pictures.

And so, they trudged back to the inn with Hyrule leading the way—how the traveller managed to recall where the inn was, Wild would never know. Hyrule _always_ managed to lose his way, but perhaps he was determined to get Wild back to the inn so they could rest. Their excuse of exhaustion helped, as Hyrule didn’t question their abnormal behaviour, only linked arms with them so they wouldn’t fall behind. Hyrule remained quiet as the two of them entered the inn, much to Wild’s relief—with the nastiness of being misgendered came irritability, and the last thing they wanted was to snap at Hyrule for trying to make conversation.

The rest of the group had already settled down at a long table, much to Wild’s surprise. Had they and Hyrule really taken that much time?

Time waved from a table near the corner and the two of them scurried over quickly, the man having easily taken the role as the group’s leader within the first day of them all being together. His look of disapproval had already been burned into their minds, and neither Wild nor Hyrule wanted to receive it again anytime soon.

Already, platters of glistening meats and fried rice sat upon the table, along with jugs filled with a beverage Warriors constantly had to slap Wind’s hand away from as he talked with what Wild could only assume was a friend. Wild and Hyrule quickly took their places beside one another, sharing a grin. While Hyrule didn’t hesitate to pile up his plate, Wild took a moment to scan the foods set out before them with intrigue—learning of the different styles of cooking in other eras was _fascinating_. Perhaps, they could go talk to the chef after they had eaten. It would be the best way to learn, after all.

Wild jumped when a hand was placed on their shoulder, turning to face Warriors curiously.

“Now, _this_ man,” Wild couldn’t help but flinch at the word, though Warriors didn’t notice. “He’s an _amazing_ knight, appointed as the princess’ personal knight, he is.”

The man Warriors was talking to gasped, offering Wild a quick bow, one that was barely noticed through the thick hopelessness spreading through their chest like flames over dried out vines. Their stomach twisted and they couldn’t help but flinch again when the man held out his hand, waiting for Wild to take it with a grin.

But Wild couldn’t, not when there were frustrated tears burning in their eyes and they could feel themself shutting down. They needed to get out of here, lest another person call them _he_ and they snap.

Standing with little regard for how their chair scraped against the wooden floor, Wild turned and headed for the stairs up to their room, ignoring the stunned silence that followed their departure. They stormed up the steps, using the misery that weighed them down and turning it into rage—better for the group to assume they were mad, rather than to know of the hopelessness that clung to their shoulders. That way, hopefully they would be left alone.

They shut the door behind them with a soft _click_ , leaning back against it and letting their head fall into their hands. Why did they feel so _awful_ about being misgendered today? Normally, they could push aside the feelings as they had done for half of their own journey.

With a deep breath, Wild moved over to the bed and dropped down onto it, retrieving their slate from where it hung on their hip. They set it in their lap, using one hand to navigate through the photos and the other to rub at their still-burning eyes. Before they could properly take in the photo of themself and Zelda in their dresses together, a knock came at the door. They jumped, dropping the slate to the floor and looking up with wide eyes as the door creaked open.

“Wild?”

Wild froze, speechless as _Time_ entered the room without waiting. Why had he followed them? Hadn’t he gotten the message that they did _not_ want an audience?

They looked away quickly, wary of Time seeing their glistening eyes—only Twilight had seen them like that, so far, and they wanted to keep it that way.

Time closed the door behind him, thankfully. He moved closer, pausing by the bed to bend down. Wild frowned, turning just far enough to see what the man was doing—blind panic poured into their gut when they realised he was picking up their slate, the photo still open for him to see. Their stomach twisted and they couldn’t help but inhale sharply, cursing their stupidity. Why hadn’t they retrieved it sooner?

But Time only passed it over to them, waiting for Wild to take the slate hesitantly before he sat down next to them. Wild was quick to turn the device off, placing it to the side and averting their eyes. What would Time say? That their departure had been unwarranted, and that he was disappointed in them?

“I’ve been meaning to ask this for over a week, now,” Time began, pausing to gauge their reaction. Wild gave no outward hint of what they were feeling, but Hylia, were they curious.

“What’s going on, Wild? You’ve been looking sadder with each passing day, and I want to help in any way I can.”

Wild blinked, unable to stop their eyes from rising to meet Time’s own. That... hadn’t been what they were expecting. How had Time noticed their discomfort? They had thought that they had been more discreet about their discomfort…

When they said nothing, Time continued, an encouraging smile pulling at his lips and the corner of his one eye crinkling warmly. “You don’t have to tell me, but just know that I’m here for you, and I won’t judge you for whatever it is. I only want you to feel more at ease while we’re all together.”

Wild’s throat closed up at Time’s words and they had to look down when their eyes burned at the love and sincerity behind Time’s words. The man hadn’t come here out of obligation as their leader, but to support them in any way he could because he _cared_.

The tears dripped down their cheeks, but they paid them no mind. They brought a knee up close to their chest, pressing their face into it to hide how emotional Time’s words had made them.

“I’m... not a boy,” Wild admitted, voice slightly muffled. They squeezed their leg nervously, as though it would comfort them. It didn’t help.

The silence that followed was stifling, and Wild swallowed thickly when the nerves returned tenfold. Had they messed up? Maybe, telling Time hadn’t been such a great idea—but, the man _had_ promised not to judge them.

“What do you mean?” Time asked, slashing through the anxious thoughts that permeated their brain like thick fog.

Wild paused. How could they articulate _that_?

“I… I don’t _feel_ like a boy—at least, most of the time.”

Time hummed thoughtfully. “Then, what _do_ you feel like?”

“Most of the time, I don’t feel like a boy, or a girl,” Wild said. “I just feel like _me_.”

When Time only furrowed his brow pensively, Wild decided they should continue. Time wanted to know _why_ they had been so upset, and if he wasn’t judging them now…

“When I feel like _this_ ,” they continued, waiting for Time’s encouraging smile before they finished. “It hurts, to be called a _man_ , because I’m not.”

“Oh,” Time said. “ _Oh_.”

Wild nodded mutely, looking away when Time’s concerned gaze became too much. It wasn’t stupid, they _knew_ that, but it certainly felt as such, now—and Zelda would smack them over the back of the head for that thought.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Time asked, lips pursed. 

“I didn’t know how you guys would react. Your eras are so far behind mine, and I was worried you would find it weird that I’m not always _he_ , sometimes I’m _she_ , or _they_.”

Time pursed his lips. “Which one are you now?”

That… hadn’t been what Wild had expected him to ask. “They.”

Time nodded. “I might not understand exactly how you feel, but I can promise to do my best to accommodate this part of you, if you’re willing to tell me when it changes.”

Wild couldn’t help but beam at Time’s words, nodding gratefully. They took a moment to breath, blinking back the tears Time’s kind words had brought forth.

“I have these earrings,” they began reaching for their slate to bring out the other pairs of earrings. “The sapphire ones, I wear on _he_ days, and the ruby ones on _she_ days. These ones,” they brushed their hair back to show off the topaz earrings, “I wear on _they_ days.”

Time nodded, taking a moment to commit their words to memory. “That helps, certainly. If you’re okay with it, I can tell the others about this so you don’t have to hurt anymore?”

Wild frowned, mulling the unexpected words over. Would the others respect them in the same way Time did?

“I’m certain they won’t mind,” Time continued at their reluctance. “And, if anyone _does_ , I can have a word with them for you.”

“You—you’d do that for me?”

Time nodded, smiling warmly and scooting closer to place a hand over their shoulder—Wild found themself grateful that he didn’t try to embrace them, as such a sensation would be too overwhelming, right now.

“Of course. You’re one of us, and this isn’t something you can change. I’ve heard of people using different pronouns, before, even if it wasn’t the same as this. This isn’t something specific to your era.”

A sigh of relief fell from Wild’s lips and they nodded. So, it wasn’t a new thing, then. The thought was relieving, that people centuries before them had felt a similar way. It served to reinforce their identity.

“Is that why you and Zelda were wearing dresses, in that picture?”

Wild couldn’t help but flush at the words, nodding meekly. “That was on one of my _she_ days, when she surprised me with the dress... it helped a lot,” they admitted. They hadn’t expected Time to have properly seen the image, not with how quickly he had passed their slate back. At least he hadn’t laughed at them…

“You looked beautiful,” Time said, offering them a warm smile when they looked up in surprise.

“Really?”

Time nodded. “Of course. It was a lovely colour.”

Wild smiled, turning their slate back on to gaze down at the photo fondly, Time looking from where he sat beside them. “I brought it with me, actually. I just... haven’t had the chance to wear it, yet.”

“Did you want to?”

“I...” Wild hadn’t expected him to ask that. How had they wound up with such an accepting leader?

“Not today,” they said, dismissing the idea. Perhaps, on their next she day, but today wasn’t one of those.

Time nodded in understanding. “Just know, whenever you want to, I’ll stand by you.”

Wild couldn’t help but sniffle at the supportive words, dipping their head in acknowledgement.

“Now, what do you say we head back down and get you some dinner. Then, I can help you tell the rest of the group—if you’re comfortable, that is.”

The thought that had once paralysed them didn’t seem as daunting, any longer. Wild found themself eager to tell the others, and to stop having to force down those unruly feelings. They could finally be themself.

“I think it’s a great idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who _finally_ wrote the first part to the series they started in March? Updates will be infrequent as I rewrite and fix but I'm excited and I hope you all enjoy!


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